The Repercussions of Lies
Posting this chapter earlier than usual, because I wasn't going home after work as the hubby and I have gone out to a show at the Sydney Operal House straight after work and I don't want to do this posting whilst at work. So lucky you, not having to wait till I come home around midnight or later to post that day's instalement, so enjoy but I will go back to posting at the usual time.
A/N : sorry if this chapter upsets you, it was a very difficult one to write, I was crying as I wrote it, it took some time to write as my tears kept on blurry my vision.
Several weeks passed and still no sighting of Ianto, Jack couldn't let it go, every and any moment he had free, rift permitting, he would scan the CCTV images, he even enlisted the help of Detective Swanson. The sombre mood in the Hub affected them all, not because they were missing their coffee that they quickly came to enjoy and look forward to the aroma of freshly brewed coffee that assaulted their senses but because they had grown accustomed to having Ianto around, his efficiencies and quiet presence. Tosh missed Ianto the most besides Jack, she could chat with him without the snarkiness that was Owen and the indifference that was Suzie and well Jack was her boss, the enigmatic figure that she revered but kept a part of herself with him at a distance. No Ianto was someone she felt safe with and he had a sense of humour that the others had yet to notice. She missed him badly and hoped that he would return once he realised that what Jack did was not out of malice but ignorance at the time. She kept a watchful look on the CCTV whenever she had the chance forever hopeful that she may see him and kept a close ear to any reports of anyone matching his description.
Jack was always in a foul mood especially after viewing the CCTV images of random places and when checking with Dect. Swanson for any sighting with the missing persons bureau and coming up with nothing. Because Ianto did not take his wallet Jack presumed any money he had on him would have gone and believed he would not have spent a large amount of his money traveling elsewhere. But that didn't stop him checking CCTV images at London and a few places that Ianto mentioned in passing when they chatted late into the night.
Some nights Jack would drink himself to oblivion, some night randomly picking fights with strangers just to feel something, as he just felt numb all over, with each passing day of no news of his elusive lover.
Running his hands through his hair Ianto emerged from the smoky room looking gaunt, his jeans hanging off his hips precariously, the belt his only salvation, the grey haired man guiding Ianto to a motel, the lights to 'motel' had the 'm' burnt out so it read 'otel', the perfectionist in Ianto looked at it wistfully fighting the urge to climb up to replace the bulb, why do people not fix things as they occur he thought. After paying a man at the desk and giving him a knowing nod, the grey haired man led Ianto up to the third floor and opened the door inviting Ianto in. Laughing to himself Ianto thought that's a moot point, the invitation, as it was already agreed on that Ianto would provide this man some sexual gratification, the invitation was so formal, and yet the activity that they were to engage in shortly far from formal, hence the run down 'otel'.
"Right, here you go" the grey haired man said with a tight smile, handing Ianto a leather outfit that was small, but when Ianto put it on, was still large on his skinny frame.
The grey haired man unclipped the restrains that were hanging off the wall onto the clips that were on the leather outfit that Ianto wore. Ianto was silent throughout the exchange and the set-up of the equipment necessary for this man's erotic desire.
"Do you have a safe word?" the grey haired man asked.
"Jack" Ianto said expressionless. 'Jack' became Ianto's safe word as he knew he would never call out his name, as this was the price that he had to pay for sleeping and falling in love with the man who was partly to blame for his girlfriend's death.
"Right, let's start" the grey haired man said eagerly, his eyes scanning Ianto's skinny frame and the flesh that was exposed from the leather outfit.
Ianto nodding slightly not making contact with the man who would be soon giving him the penance that he deserved for causing the death of his girlfriend and then fucking the man who allowed it to happen.
The man raked his longish nails down Ianto's chest, arms and legs stopping just short of his groin that was encased tightly in leather. Grabbing hold of Ianto's wrists the man whispered near Ianto's ear, "You like it rough, don't you, the pain turns you on"
Ianto did not respond, no response was needed nor wanted.
On one of the man's fingernails was a metal talon filed to a fine sharp point and when he brushed it along Ianto's chest a bead of blood seeped out, the man started to breathe heavily, staring at the droplets of blood and swallowing in gulps. Using the talon he swished it up Ianto's left thigh producing the same result, and same reaction from the man. Trying to rein in his emotions the man moved to another part of the wall, he looked and considered all the instruments of torture that were on display there. He picked up a studded knuckle duster and looked at it lovingly, caressing it, then he disregarded it and put it back, selecting a black leather whip instead.
The man held the whip in both hands running the leather straps thru his left hand as he grasped the handle, moving towards Ianto who held his head down. The man caressed the whip to Ianto's cheek, indicating to Ianto to lift his head, Ianto obliged even though he was distancing his mind from this room.
Stepping back the man lifted the whip and brought it down quickly in one swift motion, the searing pain causing Ianto to scream out in agony.
"Oh yeah, scream, loving that" the man moaned. Bringing the whip up close to Ianto's chest he rubbed the whip between them then walked away again, "Scream for me"
Again bringing the whip above his head the man flicked the whip in Ianto's direction to connect with his flesh, Ianto could not stop the scream of anguish emitted from his vocal cords. Again and again the whip was brought down onto Ianto's flesh breaking the exposed flesh on his chest, arms and legs each time causing Ianto to scream out in agony and grief. But not once did he call out the safe word.
The man's breathing becoming more and more erratic and he reached down to touch his own groin, reaching into his boxers he began to masturbate. Ianto watched the man's hand disappear into his boxers breathing a sigh of relief knowing that the pain for the time being was over, the man continued to masturbate until his release of his arousal.
"Thank you" he said to Ianto, as he released the clips on the restraints and grabbing hold of Ianto as he slumped forward, Ianto yanked his arm away letting him know that he did not require help, mainly Ianto did not want the man to touch him. Ianto sought out sadists as they didn't want nor need the actual sex act but rather the pain that they could inflict on others in a controlled way. This way Ianto could stay clean and didn't want any pleasure for himself, it was his punishment after all.
The grey haired man handed Ianto 50 pounds, "Same time next week?" he said hopefully. Ianto nodded. Ianto took the money without a word, in actuality he spoke very very little, he did not want to reveal anything of himself.
Taking the money, and after getting dressed Ianto walked back, trying to control the pain that each step required, to his bed sit that was a ten minute walk away and promptly pay the rent for the bed sit that was overpriced for what he got, but this way he was where he deserved to be, near High Street district near the railway tunnels, most people living here, if what they did was living, were just existing having lost their way in life.
Sitting on his neatly made bed that occupied most of the area in the bed sit, Ianto swabbed the wounds inflicted after tonight's activities, it would not do well if his wounds become infected even though the men that like to inflict pain caused the wounds they still wanted skin that looked pure and without pussy infected sores so Ianto treated the injuries, the medications costing almost the money he made from providing this service to the sadist doms that sought him out. Yes, he was scarred but his wounds never got infected and that was why he was popular with the doms, Ianto would never refer to himself as a masochist or a sub as he did not enjoy the pain inflicted, never was aroused, instead he saw this as his penance.
A/N: as I said before sorry if this upset you, it was very upsetting to write, if you choose to comment please remember that society is the problem not me. and oh I don't know anything of S & M, only what I learnt from my internet research and Wikipedia, so excuse my bad intrepretations of this .